


My Own Devil

by MaximusMeridian



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bottom Will Graham, Couch Sex, First Time, Hannibal doesn't act like a good doctor, M/M, Minor panic attack, Top Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 10:30:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16514642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaximusMeridian/pseuds/MaximusMeridian
Summary: Will confronts Hannibal after being released from the mental hospital, demanding answers. Hannibal gives them... but wants something in return.





	My Own Devil

Will didn’t know what dragged him to Hannibal’s home.

Desperation most likely. He just... he needed the truth. For his own sanity. No matter what the cost.

That’s how he ended up in Hannibal’s office, hands clenched in tight fists at his sides.

“Will, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Hannibal’s quiet and cool voice.

“Can we cut the crap, Hannibal?” Will asked softly, turning to face the older man. “I’m tired.”

“You should be home then. Resting.” “No, I need to be here.” He argued. “I need to know... I need you to tell me the truth.”

“The truth?” Hannibal cocked his head curiously. In that stupid way he does when he’s hiding something. A tick Will had picked up on during their visits in the Asylum.

“About everything. About what you did.” Will insisted, his voice raising in volume and anxiety.

“Will...”

“No!” Will snapped, startling himself a bit in the quiet room. “Please... Hannibal. Not for anyone else. Not to tell Jack. Not to take to a judge... no one else. Just... for me. Hannibal, for me, please. For the man you called your friend in a court room full of people, just tell me the truth.”

Hannibal sighed, leaning one hand heavily on the desk beside him, his other hand unbuttoning his suit jacket lazily. “Very well then. Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Will asked, his voice thick and anxious.

“Yes, I framed you.” Hannibal said honestly. “Yes, I framed you for the murders. And then I tried to get you off with a mistrial by killing the judge.”

“And Abigail?” Will asked, going quiet. “I planted her ear in your throat.” Hannibal shrugged.

Will nodded, taking a deep breath and stepping back. He leaned against the ladder to the loft, closing his eyes slowly. A confession at last... enough to prove to Will that he hadn’t cracked. That he was really innocent. That he was still the good man he had hoped he was.

Despite himself, he started to laugh, a panicked and almost hiccuping sound escaping him.

“Is there where you kill me for knowing too much? Like Beverly?” Will asked, swallowing thickly past the lump in his throat.

Hannibal approached slowly from where he stood by the desk, his slow and lazy steps seeming more like a predator stalking toward Will than anything else.

“Is it?” He asked again, impatient. There was so weapon in sight... no needles to drug him with. It would have to be Hannibal’s bare hands. Though those were easily strong enough to strangle him to death.

“No, Will.” Hannibal said softly, his tone... almost kind. Something akin to affection. It was probably a delusion from Will’s panicked psyche.

“Wha_” he couldn’t form the words. They died in his throat. Hannibal was right here. Less than a breath away.

Will closed his eyes, bracing for the worst.

The gentle touches on either side of his face shocked him. The gentle caress down his jawline was even worse.

Why was Hannibal toying with him? This was just cruel.

“No, Will, I won’t kill you...” Hannibal assured, leaning in.

He seemed to tower over him like this, perfect symbolism for their relationship.

“I want to keep you.” Hannibal whispered, brushing his lips over Will’s lightly. It was barely there but it was enough to stop Will’s frantic breathing, catching in his throat.

“I want to keep you... it’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.” He whispered, brushing their noses together.

“But this is the last chance I’ll give you to walk away from me. If you don’t say no now... I’ll never let you go.”

How was he supposed to say no to that? Hannibal was so close... his breath a dizzying air across Will’s face.

Will didn’t realize he was leaning in until he was there. When his lips were pressed to Hannibal’s nearly in a panicked rush.

He was sealing the deal, signing away his life and soul to his personal devil.

And god was he okay with it. Somehow Hannibal’s hand moved to the buttons of Will’s shirt, unbuttoning it quickly and moving his hand down over Will’s newly exposed chest.

His other hand never left Will’s cheek though, their lips never parting for more than a second.

“Will...” Hannibal whispered. There was no doubting the sound of it this time. Admiration. Adoration.

“Yes.” Will moaned, as if his permission wasn’t explicit before.

That seemed to be what Hannibal wanted though, as he picked Will up then, hands under his thighs and carrying him over to the black couch.

Will was dazed, breathing heavily when Hannibal stepped away, just enough to take off his suit jacket and tie. That was all the time away that Will could allow before pulling the older man down on top of him for another crushing kiss.

He imagined his lips would be bruised and red later but for now… he just didn’t care.

Between the heated kisses, Will felt his pants and shoes pulled away, set aside wherever Hannibal chose to put them.

Hannibal’s hands were cool on his skin, calming the feverish heat Will swore was flooding from his skin. Lips pressed against Will’s ear, hushed words echoing low in his mind.

Hannibal stepped away again, walking all the way to his desk this time before Will could pull him down again. Will shifted to straighten himself on the cushion, licking his lips anxiously as he waited for Hannibal to come back.

Thankfully the doctor returned quickly, offering Will a simple kiss before using one hand to spread the younger’s thighs.

“Please try to relax, Will. I won’t hurt you this time.” Hannibal whispered, bumping their noses together lightly to focus Will’s attention again.

Not this time? So, he plans on doing this again. And has plans to actually hurt Will. That seemed like something for future Will to worry about.

When he focused on the present again, Hannibal was adjusting their positions again, pulling Will’s legs gently around his own waist.

Will let out a soft breath, his mind barely processing the slight burning pressure before it registered that his hips were flush against Hannibal’s. He felt the scratchiness of the pants barely touching his skin, but it was barely noticeable.

There was something far more important to focus on. Hannibal lowered himself so that his forearms rested on the cushion on either side of his head, effectively forcing Will’s focus to just the older man.

It worked remarkably well, letting Will’s mind center on the moment, on the slight flush in Hannibal’s cheeks, the heat of his breath across Will’s face with each thrust. It was sensory deprivation of the best kind, focusing Will so intently on the moment that every movement felt heightened to a dizzying peak.

He rocked his own hips, managing to meet each thrust. It felt exhilarating, more intimate and fulfilling than any sexual experience he’d had before. Like a lost piece being made whole again when reunited with its puzzle.

Minutes passed, or hours, Will couldn’t tell, while he shared breath with Hannibal.

He wanted to offer a warning, even something small to Hannibal, but he couldn’t, his orgasm causing him to tremble while a broken moan escaped him.

I ruined his dress shirt… Will’s mind thought hazily. That thought didn’t last long, ruined by the feeling on Hannibal’s shaky breath against his ear and the shuddering before his hips stilled.

Will blinked slowly, feeling groggy, like the months of exhaustion were catching up with him.

Briefly he noticed Hannibal tying off a condom and wrapping it in tissue, likely to dispose of somewhere else.

The next time he blinked, Hannibal was back on the couch, sitting beside him and carefully wiping Will’s stomach and thighs clean.

And the next time, he was wearing his shirt again along with a thick quilt wrapped around his body. The weight was remarkably grounding… likely Hannibal’s plan with it.

“Have you returned to me, Will?” Hannibal asked from the doorway to the rest of the house, a tray in his hands.

“How long was I out?” Will asked, his voice quiet and his throat dry.

“Nearly an hour. Though I cannot blame you. It seemed as if you were in the midst of a panic attack throughout.” Hannibal commented, setting the tray on the table and offering Will a tea cup.

“Drink.” He encouraged. “you’ll feel better.” Will took the mug obediently, taking a large gulp and grimacing at the taste. He didn’t protest though. He didn’t want to speak really, not yet.

Hannibal smiled, reaching over and gently petting Will’s hair. “You’re mine now, Will Graham. And I take care of what is mine.”

Will closed his eyes, leaning into the gentle touches. He was damned, cursed and trapped. But in all honesty… He couldn’t be less afraid right now.

He felt safe.

He felt whole.

He felt… like he belonged.

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on my Tumblr: LibraryofDarkandDeadly. Come say hi!


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